Chinese thief 3
darthcourt10
Well worn.
- Joined
- Jun 12, 2018
- Messages
- 7,946
- Likes received
- 30,442
Fallenworldful
Lol what is a regular update schedule even. Sorry bout the delay everyone, but Rochester's saga continues again at long last.
-------
Caroline studied her high ponytail in the mirror and judged it slightly wanting. A few deft flicks of her comb made it suitably fluffy, and she tucked a small bundle of fake lilacs around the hair tie to complete the look.
"What do you think?" She called.
Jamaica gestured for her to turn, and she spun her chair around to let her friend see. Caroline stopped in front of the computer screen again, and her friend raised an eyebrow. "I think I understand why people couldn't recognize Clark Kent now. That is uncanny."
She giggled. "Yeah, no one's recognized me like this yet." Caroline had changed out her wire-rim glasses, hat, and low pigtails for contacts, a headband, and a high ponytail as she had several times before. Normally, wandering outside in her home city attracted far too much attention for her liking—getting mobbed by a crowd while taking a walk lost its appeal after the first five times—but "disguised" as she was Caroline was left alone.
"I'm glad it works that well. Honestly, if I didn't know it was you, I might've had to resort to checking your hull."
"Heh, if it didn't, I'd have to ask for my money back. Abraham gave me a few pointers." She rolled her eyes. "Just wish she didn't like hiding so much."
Jamaica smirked. "I can imagine. Hey, you should—" Something buzzed from her end of the video call. "Hang on, I'm getting a communication from the coast guard."
Caroline waited while her friend answered with her onboard equipment. Jamaica's expression quickly morphed into a frown, and she started tapping her desk and muttering under her breath. A few seconds passed before she slumped face down onto her desk with a thump. A muffled "shit" drifted up past her dreadlocks.
The unusual curse drew a blink. "What's wrong?"
Her friend sighed and tilted her head up enough so Caroline could see her eyes again. "I told you about that smuggler I caught a week or so ago, right?"
She nodded. "He was hauling controlled goods across the Gulf in exchange for extra fuel and ration tickets, and had the bad luck to run into you on patrol."
"Turns out he was being pressured into it by a local gang. They kidnapped his family as leverage and he thinks they're in serious danger now." Jamaica hid her eyes again.
"Oh."
"Yep."
They lapsed into silence for a few seconds. Caroline tried to think of something to say, but came up blank. Why did people have to act this way? There were enough problems to deal with with the whole war for survival going on.
She started when her friend spoke again. "I shouldn't have dumped this on you."
"We're friends. After everything we've been through together, I'd be a terrible friend if I didn't listen." The line came out automatically, and Caroline could almost feel Jamaica choking on the cheesiness. "Sorry."
She waved her off with "It's fine." Another awkward pause spread through their conversation, but before it could grow too long Jamaica pushed herself back up. "Just don't say that ever again," she joked.
Caroline reared back in fake offense. "Hmph, well excuuuse me for being nice."
They held their poses until they couldn't hold back the snickers. That at least brought back a small smile. "Excused."
A clock chimed behind her.
"Ah, you still have that meeting at the Lilac Festival with Sable and, uh, Wolverine, don't you?"
Caroline had promised to meet the two training carriers today at the Lilac Festival to welcome them to Rochester. They had been testing experimental equipment in the Great Lakes for a few months and were spending the next week on leave, barring any sudden breakthroughs.
"Mmhm." Caroline didn't want to leave her stewing over this, as memories of her own awful time late last year flashed through her mind. Jamaica's friendship was about the only thing she could cling onto then, with both her mother and brother on deployment and her father busy dealing with the aftermath of an Abyssal raid.
"Oi, you're not going to leave them hanging for me, are you? I can reassure you that I'll keep filling your ears when you get back."
"You sure you aren't a mind reader, Jamaica?" She asked, and her friend laughed.
"Come on, scram, you're going to be late," and shooed her away.
"All right, all right, I'll call again tonight, then."
"I'll hold you to that. Enjoy!" Jamaica ended the call.
--------------------
The smell of lilacs drifted through the air. Thousands of the purple flowers were blooming across Highland Park, just in time for the yearly festival in their name. Not much had changed from before, if Caroline's faint memories of more peaceful times were accurate. The same crowds milled about under the bright spring sun enjoying life and what it brought. Food stands served up festival classics to anyone willing to stomach a thousand plus calories of grease and sugar while carnival games scammed kids of their parents' money. Bands played in a large natural amphitheater, their music faintly audible over the throng. Here, over two hundred miles inland and well insulated from Abyssal attack, people could cut loose and pretend the war didn't exist for a few hours a day.
She arrived a little early; her family's home was a quick walk away, and she walked fast. Her stomach rumbled a bit. Caroline checked her watch and decided there was enough time for a bite to eat. She joined the line to a food stand and nabbed two pieces of fried dough and a funnel cake. She surreptitiously poured a generous helping of powdered sugar on top before creeping away, hoping no one noticed the unusual portion size.
Her path ended at a secluded magnolia tree many children had climbed over the decades it had been there, the bark worn smooth by hundreds of hands. The trunk split close to the ground, forming a little seat of a sorts that she claimed. Just as she made herself comfortable, the wind promptly gusted, sending the sugar everywhere. Her fairies laughed at her plight as she tried to beat it out of her jeans and t-shirt, but pulled out dusters and got to work anyway.
"Hey, Rochester, this is Wolverine! Sable and I just reached the park entrance; where do you want to meet?" Wolverine's voice crackled onto her radio.
"Hello! Welcome to Highland Park, guys!" She cast about for a place far enough she would have time to clean up a little. "Do you see the conservatory?"
"The white greenhouse?"
"That's the one! I'll be right there, just give me a moment." Caroline glanced about for any observers, and stashed the funnel cake and fried dough away in her holds as she cleared away the last bit of sugar. Treat stored, Caroline set off at a brisk walk to the conservatory. Not many people were on the back trails with all the action on the main paths, but she passed a few people on the way there. Something tickled at the back of her mind, someone watching her, but a quick glance showed nothing out of the ordinary and her fairies hadn't spotted anything either.
The Lamberton Conservatory was the centerpiece of the park, a greenhouse conservatory with numerous exotic flora. She found Wolverine and Sable standing before the Spanish-American War memorial, an old cannon salvaged from a Spanish fort. Their rigging was quite distinctive, with their paddlewheel heel shoes and elegant layered dresses, a legacy of their cruising days. A small group was standing nearby, taking pictures of them.
"Hello Wolverine, Sable! Long time no see!"
They turned together and waved. "Same to you, Ro-Caroline!" Sable responded.
"You have to visit us more often, it gets lonely only working with steel-hulls," Wolverine added.
She breathed a sigh of relief as they remembered her request. "I'll certainly try, but you know how things are. Now, is there anything you want to do first?"
"Well, we certainly have to see the lilacs…"
And so the day went. Sable and Wolverine signed a few autographs as they meandered through the lilacs, sampled a garbage plate at a food stand, and scared the daylights out of a few shady carnival game operators. It was fun watching the two of them uneasily poke at the messy pile of protein and starch that Rochester called its local cuisine. However, the lingering feeling continued through the day, waxing and waning at random. She tried to force the unease out of mind,
The three of them entered the conservatory late, a few minutes before closing. She mouthed an apology to the man behind the service desk, but he ushered them in with a smile regardless. While the two training carriers proceeded on their own, Caroline lingered back. The pressure from before had returned, and as she crossed into the tropical room it intensified. Wolverine disappeared around the corner, leaving her alone in the room. A tiny pop disrupted the still, humid air.
Caroline turned her head, slow and cautious. Crew rushed to battle stations, manning her guns for the first time in weeks. Her rigging stayed stowed, but in an instant would be by her side.
A woman dressed in an ornate hanfu stood behind her. A jade bracelet carved to resemble a snake poked out from beneath her left sleeve, while she held a short length of wood in her right hand. Caroline locked eyes with the stranger. A familiar face she had seen just once before, but would remain in her memory forever.
Rochester lay in a pile of rubble, gasping for breath. The teeth had pierced her vitals through, tearing apart structural beams, armor, and machinery with contemptuous ease. Half of her boilers were gone outright, and the remaining ones were failing one by one. Her damage control teams shored what they could. It was a losing battle in the face of such devastating battle damage.
The sharp pop-pop-pop of the strange weapons the magicals had brought continued, interspersed with the much louder roars of the giant Abyssal, but they grew less and less frequent as the Abyssal picked them off one by one. She had failed, failed the city, failed the soldiers counting on her, failed her family. I'm sorry, she tried to broadcast, but even that took more energy than she could muster.
Someone staggered into the puddle of water, blood, and oil growing around her.
She tried to focus on the shape, a last defiance against the encroaching darkness. Whoever it was started speaking. The clipped Mandarin vanished into the haze of pain that was consuming her, and her eyes started to slide closed.
The last words, though, came through clearly. "Please, save them."
A blazing light cut through the fog. A young woman was kneeling next to her, a jade band with a brilliant pearl in her hands. She locked eyes with Rochester, and slipped the bracelet onto her left wrist. A wave of energy pulsed through her, and the wounds began to heal as the pearl shined brighter and brighter until it became blinding.
Rochester heard a quiet pop. By the time the light cleared, the woman was gone.
She raced towards the battle on new engines, hoping she wasn't too late.
Older features, yes, but similar all the same.
"Hello, Rochester." Her voice was warm, but not a trace of it carried over to her expression. "I am Ping Zhonghua."
------|\/|-------
Dun dun DUUUUUUN! cliffhanger! I've stripped the dates from these to make them less likely to get outrun by everyone else's writing, but I'm not sure how much that'll help haha.
Not particularly happy with it, but when is anyone happy with writing. Carp Diamonds and all that.
Lol what is a regular update schedule even. Sorry bout the delay everyone, but Rochester's saga continues again at long last.
-------
Caroline studied her high ponytail in the mirror and judged it slightly wanting. A few deft flicks of her comb made it suitably fluffy, and she tucked a small bundle of fake lilacs around the hair tie to complete the look.
"What do you think?" She called.
Jamaica gestured for her to turn, and she spun her chair around to let her friend see. Caroline stopped in front of the computer screen again, and her friend raised an eyebrow. "I think I understand why people couldn't recognize Clark Kent now. That is uncanny."
She giggled. "Yeah, no one's recognized me like this yet." Caroline had changed out her wire-rim glasses, hat, and low pigtails for contacts, a headband, and a high ponytail as she had several times before. Normally, wandering outside in her home city attracted far too much attention for her liking—getting mobbed by a crowd while taking a walk lost its appeal after the first five times—but "disguised" as she was Caroline was left alone.
"I'm glad it works that well. Honestly, if I didn't know it was you, I might've had to resort to checking your hull."
"Heh, if it didn't, I'd have to ask for my money back. Abraham gave me a few pointers." She rolled her eyes. "Just wish she didn't like hiding so much."
Jamaica smirked. "I can imagine. Hey, you should—" Something buzzed from her end of the video call. "Hang on, I'm getting a communication from the coast guard."
Caroline waited while her friend answered with her onboard equipment. Jamaica's expression quickly morphed into a frown, and she started tapping her desk and muttering under her breath. A few seconds passed before she slumped face down onto her desk with a thump. A muffled "shit" drifted up past her dreadlocks.
The unusual curse drew a blink. "What's wrong?"
Her friend sighed and tilted her head up enough so Caroline could see her eyes again. "I told you about that smuggler I caught a week or so ago, right?"
She nodded. "He was hauling controlled goods across the Gulf in exchange for extra fuel and ration tickets, and had the bad luck to run into you on patrol."
"Turns out he was being pressured into it by a local gang. They kidnapped his family as leverage and he thinks they're in serious danger now." Jamaica hid her eyes again.
"Oh."
"Yep."
They lapsed into silence for a few seconds. Caroline tried to think of something to say, but came up blank. Why did people have to act this way? There were enough problems to deal with with the whole war for survival going on.
She started when her friend spoke again. "I shouldn't have dumped this on you."
"We're friends. After everything we've been through together, I'd be a terrible friend if I didn't listen." The line came out automatically, and Caroline could almost feel Jamaica choking on the cheesiness. "Sorry."
She waved her off with "It's fine." Another awkward pause spread through their conversation, but before it could grow too long Jamaica pushed herself back up. "Just don't say that ever again," she joked.
Caroline reared back in fake offense. "Hmph, well excuuuse me for being nice."
They held their poses until they couldn't hold back the snickers. That at least brought back a small smile. "Excused."
A clock chimed behind her.
"Ah, you still have that meeting at the Lilac Festival with Sable and, uh, Wolverine, don't you?"
Caroline had promised to meet the two training carriers today at the Lilac Festival to welcome them to Rochester. They had been testing experimental equipment in the Great Lakes for a few months and were spending the next week on leave, barring any sudden breakthroughs.
"Mmhm." Caroline didn't want to leave her stewing over this, as memories of her own awful time late last year flashed through her mind. Jamaica's friendship was about the only thing she could cling onto then, with both her mother and brother on deployment and her father busy dealing with the aftermath of an Abyssal raid.
"Oi, you're not going to leave them hanging for me, are you? I can reassure you that I'll keep filling your ears when you get back."
"You sure you aren't a mind reader, Jamaica?" She asked, and her friend laughed.
"Come on, scram, you're going to be late," and shooed her away.
"All right, all right, I'll call again tonight, then."
"I'll hold you to that. Enjoy!" Jamaica ended the call.
--------------------
The smell of lilacs drifted through the air. Thousands of the purple flowers were blooming across Highland Park, just in time for the yearly festival in their name. Not much had changed from before, if Caroline's faint memories of more peaceful times were accurate. The same crowds milled about under the bright spring sun enjoying life and what it brought. Food stands served up festival classics to anyone willing to stomach a thousand plus calories of grease and sugar while carnival games scammed kids of their parents' money. Bands played in a large natural amphitheater, their music faintly audible over the throng. Here, over two hundred miles inland and well insulated from Abyssal attack, people could cut loose and pretend the war didn't exist for a few hours a day.
She arrived a little early; her family's home was a quick walk away, and she walked fast. Her stomach rumbled a bit. Caroline checked her watch and decided there was enough time for a bite to eat. She joined the line to a food stand and nabbed two pieces of fried dough and a funnel cake. She surreptitiously poured a generous helping of powdered sugar on top before creeping away, hoping no one noticed the unusual portion size.
Her path ended at a secluded magnolia tree many children had climbed over the decades it had been there, the bark worn smooth by hundreds of hands. The trunk split close to the ground, forming a little seat of a sorts that she claimed. Just as she made herself comfortable, the wind promptly gusted, sending the sugar everywhere. Her fairies laughed at her plight as she tried to beat it out of her jeans and t-shirt, but pulled out dusters and got to work anyway.
"Hey, Rochester, this is Wolverine! Sable and I just reached the park entrance; where do you want to meet?" Wolverine's voice crackled onto her radio.
"Hello! Welcome to Highland Park, guys!" She cast about for a place far enough she would have time to clean up a little. "Do you see the conservatory?"
"The white greenhouse?"
"That's the one! I'll be right there, just give me a moment." Caroline glanced about for any observers, and stashed the funnel cake and fried dough away in her holds as she cleared away the last bit of sugar. Treat stored, Caroline set off at a brisk walk to the conservatory. Not many people were on the back trails with all the action on the main paths, but she passed a few people on the way there. Something tickled at the back of her mind, someone watching her, but a quick glance showed nothing out of the ordinary and her fairies hadn't spotted anything either.
The Lamberton Conservatory was the centerpiece of the park, a greenhouse conservatory with numerous exotic flora. She found Wolverine and Sable standing before the Spanish-American War memorial, an old cannon salvaged from a Spanish fort. Their rigging was quite distinctive, with their paddlewheel heel shoes and elegant layered dresses, a legacy of their cruising days. A small group was standing nearby, taking pictures of them.
"Hello Wolverine, Sable! Long time no see!"
They turned together and waved. "Same to you, Ro-Caroline!" Sable responded.
"You have to visit us more often, it gets lonely only working with steel-hulls," Wolverine added.
She breathed a sigh of relief as they remembered her request. "I'll certainly try, but you know how things are. Now, is there anything you want to do first?"
"Well, we certainly have to see the lilacs…"
And so the day went. Sable and Wolverine signed a few autographs as they meandered through the lilacs, sampled a garbage plate at a food stand, and scared the daylights out of a few shady carnival game operators. It was fun watching the two of them uneasily poke at the messy pile of protein and starch that Rochester called its local cuisine. However, the lingering feeling continued through the day, waxing and waning at random. She tried to force the unease out of mind,
The three of them entered the conservatory late, a few minutes before closing. She mouthed an apology to the man behind the service desk, but he ushered them in with a smile regardless. While the two training carriers proceeded on their own, Caroline lingered back. The pressure from before had returned, and as she crossed into the tropical room it intensified. Wolverine disappeared around the corner, leaving her alone in the room. A tiny pop disrupted the still, humid air.
Caroline turned her head, slow and cautious. Crew rushed to battle stations, manning her guns for the first time in weeks. Her rigging stayed stowed, but in an instant would be by her side.
A woman dressed in an ornate hanfu stood behind her. A jade bracelet carved to resemble a snake poked out from beneath her left sleeve, while she held a short length of wood in her right hand. Caroline locked eyes with the stranger. A familiar face she had seen just once before, but would remain in her memory forever.
Rochester lay in a pile of rubble, gasping for breath. The teeth had pierced her vitals through, tearing apart structural beams, armor, and machinery with contemptuous ease. Half of her boilers were gone outright, and the remaining ones were failing one by one. Her damage control teams shored what they could. It was a losing battle in the face of such devastating battle damage.
The sharp pop-pop-pop of the strange weapons the magicals had brought continued, interspersed with the much louder roars of the giant Abyssal, but they grew less and less frequent as the Abyssal picked them off one by one. She had failed, failed the city, failed the soldiers counting on her, failed her family. I'm sorry, she tried to broadcast, but even that took more energy than she could muster.
Someone staggered into the puddle of water, blood, and oil growing around her.
She tried to focus on the shape, a last defiance against the encroaching darkness. Whoever it was started speaking. The clipped Mandarin vanished into the haze of pain that was consuming her, and her eyes started to slide closed.
The last words, though, came through clearly. "Please, save them."
A blazing light cut through the fog. A young woman was kneeling next to her, a jade band with a brilliant pearl in her hands. She locked eyes with Rochester, and slipped the bracelet onto her left wrist. A wave of energy pulsed through her, and the wounds began to heal as the pearl shined brighter and brighter until it became blinding.
Rochester heard a quiet pop. By the time the light cleared, the woman was gone.
She raced towards the battle on new engines, hoping she wasn't too late.
Older features, yes, but similar all the same.
"Hello, Rochester." Her voice was warm, but not a trace of it carried over to her expression. "I am Ping Zhonghua."
------|\/|-------
Dun dun DUUUUUUN! cliffhanger! I've stripped the dates from these to make them less likely to get outrun by everyone else's writing, but I'm not sure how much that'll help haha.
Not particularly happy with it, but when is anyone happy with writing. Carp Diamonds and all that.